by Donna Hill
She thought she would never see him again, and certainly not like this. She stared sightlessly out of the window. What would it be like seeing him again? How would she feel, how would she react? There was so much that was still unsettled between them, and this trial would probably only distance them more.
She would have to remain totally aloof, completely professional. There was no way she could allow her personal feelings to hamper her ability to defend him. But how can I ever be detached when it comes to him?
Maybe Cliff was right. Suppose she’d made a mistake by coming? A man’s life depended on her. She shut her eyes. She was the best. She’d handled dozens of tough cases, and she’d handle this one to the best of her ability. No matter what he might have done to her, he didn’t deserve less than optimum defense.
Her heart throbbed when she imagined seeing his face, and she quickly rechecked her notes to block the vision.
The 90th Precinct was bustling with activity.
Officers ushered in their perpetrators, while a weathered sergeant barked orders and police administrative assistants dispatched teams. It was several minutes before Sergeant Bailey was able to acknowledge her presence.
“Can I help you, miss?” He looked at her with a look of curiosity and disdain.
“I’m Khendra Phillips, the attorney for Sean Michaels” she took a quick look at his name plate “Sergeant Bailey, and I’d like to see my client immediately.”
So this was that hot-shot attorney he had heard so much about, he thought. It always left a bad taste in his mouth when the haves thought that money could get them off the hook. He was sure Sean Michaels was as guilty as they come. And all the money in the world, or pretty lawyers, wouldn’t change that. He’d be more than happy to see that he got just what he deserved. He leaned his beefy arms across the worn wooden desk and looked down at her with watery blue eyes.
“Got any ID?”
She reached into her wallet and produced her identification, which he perused for an annoyingly long time. He finally looked up, pursed his lips and passed the wallet back to her.
“Everything looks in order.”
Khendra bit back a retort, determined not to be irked by this obtuse man. “May I see my client now?” she asked sweetly.
“Hey, Parker,” he boomed across the chaotic room, “take this here lady back to the room, and bring Michaels out.”
A rather thin officer hurried up to her side and escorted her to the visiting room.
Khendra paced. She waited for what seemed an infinity, holding in all the turbulent emotions that pulsed in her veins. She could not allow herself to succumb to her feelings. This was a job. No matter what had happened between them. If she permitted her feelings to get in the way, they would be defeated before they began. She’d get his statement and that would be all. That will be all, she prayed silently.
She had her back turned when he entered the room, and nothing could have prepared her for seeing him again.
“Khendra.” His voice was a bare whisper of relief that fled up her spine and lodged in her heart.
She turned, their eyes met, and suddenly nothing else mattered. The room seemed to bloom with life, the dreary walls vibrated with color, and her heart stood still. She fought down the compelling urge to run into his arms, to wipe away the fear and uncertainty that loomed behind those eyes of midnight. But she wouldn’t—didn’t dare.
“Hello, Mr. Michaels. Have a seat and let’s begin.”
She couldn’t look at him.
How could she be so emotionless? Couldn’t she see how badly he regretted all that had happened, how much he was hurting? All he needed right now was to see her smile, to somehow know that things would be all right between them—that she still loved him. Yet, he had to admire her no-nonsense attitude and professionalism, even in the light of all that had transpired between them.
He took a seat diagonally across from her, but couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering to her face. “Khen, I—”
“Let’s get the ground rules on the table. I came because I believe I’m capable of defending you. And that’s the reason.” Her heart clenched in her chest at the look of anguish that filled his eyes. She swallowed the knot that had formed in her throat. “Now I want you to tell me in your own words exactly what happened that night.”
Sean looked away, an invisible shroud descending over his eyes, locking his heart. He began his story.
Was she really prepared to hear why he had been with his ex-wife? She had seen the pictures of the crime, and Carol was practically nude. Did he make love with her? Did he hold her, did he…Stop it! Just stop it, she told herself, trying to concentrate on what Sean was saying. Speculating wasn’t going to get her anywhere. She was an attorney. An attorney for a man who had been charged with murder. And her only concern was to build a case and get him acquitted.
His pulsing voice filtered through her thoughts.
“…everything just happened so fast. She came at me with scissors…she fell…the coat rack hit her on the head. I panicked…she wouldn’t move…”
His story was scattered and somewhat erratic, but she was able to piece everything together. And what she gathered from it all was he did not do it. Never once did he mention the scarf she was strangled with. Yet, who could it have been? Obviously someone else visited Carol’s apartment that night. But who?
“Sean.” It was the first time she had said his name aloud, and a tremor of remembrance ran up her spine. “Did you see a scarf, a silk scarf that night?”
He looked at her as if she’d asked him if he was from Saturn. “What are you talking about? What scarf? And what does it have to do with Carol?”
“She was strangled, Sean.” She looked him fully in the eye, waiting for his reaction.
“What? But I thought…they never said…oh, God, Khendra, I didn’t do it. You’ve got to believe me. I didn’t do She was alive when I left.” His voice was an agonized plea. “You do believe me, don’t you? Tell me you believe me.” His eyes burned into hers, filled with a tormented waiting.
“I believe you,” she said with more emotion than she intended. She quickly recovered. Looking away, she added, “Now what we have to do is find out who did.” As much as she hated to, she plowed forward. “I want you to tell me everything about your relationship with Carol, from the time you met, and anything else you think might help.”
She rapidly took notes, mindful to keep her feelings in check as Sean laid out the story of their stormy marriage, the ensuing scandal surrounding their divorce, including what Carol had held over his head.
“She had…pictures,” he said with, obvious hesitation. “Potentially incriminating pictures.”
Khendra’s head snapped up from her notes, her pulse hammering in her ears.
“Tell me.”
“I was at one time involved in uncovering some evidence for a client who was involved in a drug bust.”
“Go on.”
“I didn’t want any more police involvement. They really screwed things up. The D.A. was going for maximum conviction. But I was sure my client had been set up, so I decided to go after the dealers myself. She had me followed. And she has pictures of me, clear pictures, of me making a transaction with a known dealer.”
She briefly shut her eyes and released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Where are these pictures now?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does anyone else know about this?”
“Just you.”
“Why would she do something like that?”
“The dealer, I found out later, was her lover.”
“And you’ve been paying her to keep quiet ever since?”
Her question was more of a statement.
He nodded.
“Why didn’t you go to the police?”
“Are you kidding? Who would have believed me. Then, when the divorce hit the papers and her drug addiction was publicized, she swore she would tell the bar association that I helped
to supply her if I didn’t continue to maintain her in a comfortable lifestyle. And she had the pictures. I could have been disbarred. It wasn’t worth the risk.”
Khendra dropped her head. The enormity of the deceit and betrayal rendered her momentarily speechless. “Did you at least win the case?” she asked finally, trying to lighten the dark mood that had enveloped them.
He chuckled derisively. “On a technicality.”
She took a deep breath. “Your arraignment is set for ten o’clock tomorrow morning. I know the D.A. is going to ask for the maximum bail. Can you handle it?”
“I think I can.”
“Good.” She closed her notebook, slipped it into her briefcase and rose from the hard wooden chair. “Then I’ll see you in the morning. Do you have a suit?”
“I have an extra set of keys over the ledge of my door. Would you pick one out for me?”
His eyes were so tender, his voice so penetrating. She didn’t want to go back to his apartment, back to memories of dreams now dead.
“I’ll bring it at nine.” She brushed past him and signaled for the guard.
He held her arm. Fire raced through her body and she felt her knees weaken.
“I have so much to tell you—to explain.” His voice reached that secret place in her heart, and she almost forgot where they were and why.
She looked him squarely in the eye. “Does it have anything to do with your defense?”
Anguished silence.
Then I don’t think we have anything else to discuss.”
She stepped through the door, her heart hammering madly.
Judge Abramson silently reviewed the file in front him. Slowly, he raised his gray head. “Would the defendant rise? Mr. Michaels, you are charged with murder in the first degree. How do you plead?”
Sean straightened his shoulders. “Not guilty, your honor,” he answered in a strong, clear voice.
The judge looked to Paul Gamer, the assistant D.A. “Bail, Mr. Gamer?”
Paul Gamer, a giant of a man, squared his shoulders and looked contemptuously at Sean. “The people ask the maximum of two million dollars, your honor.”
“But your honor,” Khendra interjected, stunned by the monstrous ransom, “this request is excessive. My client is an upstanding member of this community. He is a leading member of the bar and a partner at one of the most prestigious law firms in this state. He is not a flight risk, your honor.”
“Mr. Gamer?” Judge Abramson looked at the assistant D.A. dispassionately.
“Your honor,” Gamer boomed, “this crime, to say the least, is a heinous crime. This man is violent and has ties outside of this state.”
“Don’t try your case here, Mr. Gamer. You’ll have plenty of time for that. I agree with the defense counsel,” he continued. “Bail is set at one hundred thousand dollars.”
Sean breathed a sigh of relief.
Abramson flipped open the court calendar, then looked up, pushing his wire-rimmed glasses up on his bulbous nose. “Trial date is set for six weeks from today at nine a.m.” He banged the gavel. “Next case.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
It had grown dark. All of the tenants had left for the evening. It was quiet. The perfect atmosphere for the painstaking work that needed to be done. The jury had been selected and the trial was only days away. Yet, she was no closer to discovering the truth than she was when she began.
Khendra turned on the desk lamp and continued sorting through the stack of material in front of her. She rented desk space from an old school friend who leased an office on a monthly basis. The arrangement would work out perfectly, she assured herself as she pored over detailed accounts of the arresting officers and the officers at the scene. She leaned back from the desk and massaged her temples. Once this case was over, she would leave Atlanta for good.
Over. It sounded so final. Would it ever really be over between her and Sean? Would her disillusionment with love ever be over? It didn’t really matter anymore, did it? She had made her decision. Love wasn’t for her. She had her career to think about, and a case that was more important to her than any she had ever handled.
The awareness shook her. Was it because it was Sean? She didn’t want to hear the answer that danced in her head. She wouldn’t listen. She didn’t want to give in to the shivery sensations that rippled through her when she remembered his touch, his lips, his scent lingering on her long after their explosive lovemaking. She wouldn’t give in to the heated fluid that sought release. She couldn’t risk it. Not now. Not again.
Instead, she compelled herself to go over the list of tenants who were questioned and the evidence that the D.A.’s office had compiled against Sean.
She frowned. It didn’t look good. Everything pointed to his guilt. Essentially, there was circumstantial motive, opportunity, and most damaging, there were witnesses who not only heard the violent quarrel, but who saw him enter and leave the building. Along with his own admission of being at the scene. But there had to be something she was overlooking. There had to be.
The one question that nipped at her mind was why had the firm refused to defend one of their own? The only conclusion she could come up with was Alex.
He was the impetus behind everything at MC&P. Just the thought of him resurfaced the burning anger and resentment that hovered on the edges of her stability.
She shook her shoulders as if to rid herself of an unseen weight. Concentrating on Alex would not serve any purpose other than to get her agitated again and distract her from the task at hand.
She drew her attention back to her notes and Sean’s statements, but something still didn’t quite fit. And her continual and pulsing thoughts of Sean did little to help her concentration.
He thought spending sleepless nights in jail was the ultimate test of his endurance. But this was worse. She was so close. Barely a heartbeat away, yet she wouldn’t allow him within spitting distance unless it had something to do with the case.
There was so much that lay unsaid between them. Things that it was time she knew: why he had really come to Atlanta, and what he was on the brink of discovering before…
Before. If only he could go back and put the pieces together. Now he was no better than a pariah. Even the powers that be who sent him to Atlanta acted like he didn’t exist. And all because Carol was the daughter of a judge. Bradford was probably behind his ostracism—his own last attempt at restitution for his daughter’s misdeeds, even at his ex-son-in-law’s expense. He almost laughed.
Then, heaving a frustrated sigh, he rose from the rumpled bed. Leaning against the window frame, he looked out into the starlit sky, and immediately images of Khendra lying in his arms loomed before him. His arousal at just thinking of her was hard and swift, leaving him hungry with desire, startling him with its urgency. Never had a woman been able to capture not only his body, but his spirit, his every waking emotion.
His heart pumped. He had to see her, to touch her, if only for a moment, just long enough to wipe out the nightmare from which he seemed unable to awaken.
The bathroom was still steamy from the shower she had taken, and was filled with the heady aroma of the jasmine-scented shower gel she had rubbed into her skin.
Wrapping her freshly washed hair in a towel, she stepped out of the shower and padded through the small apartment. She had wanted to stay with Charisse, but Charisse’s late hours and assortment of men were too distracting. Much to Charisse’s displeasure, she had fortunately found a reasonable sublet that would carry her through the period of the trial.
Temporary. The transient thought rippled through her brain. It seemed that everything in her life was temporary. No matter how hard she tried. Her success, her career, her life, everything. Temporary.
Maybe that’s the way things should be, she thought, trying to make sense out of the senseless. But didn’t she deserve more than that? She had tried so hard, she thought, the ache of loneliness taking hold as she stroked her body with her favorite cream. She glided her hands ov
er her long legs up to her thighs and across her firm belly.
Closing her eyes, she envisioned Sean’s hands as they caressed her, heated her, loved her, and the tears began to fall. One by one, they slid down her high cheekbones, dripping across her full breasts in a silent stream. All of the humiliation and heartache fought for release.
Soundless sobs shook her body as her hands instinctively sought to soothe the ache within her. Tender words of passion spouted in her ears, a voice so lovingly low and thrilling it sent shivers of dreamy desire surging within her.
Sean. His name involuntarily slipped through her lips willing his presence, electrifying her with its sound. Then her eyes fluttered open as an insistent buzzing pierced her erotic thought. Rising, as if from a dream, she pulled on her robe and went to the door.
Sean! It must be an apparition, she thought through the haze of her fantasy.
“Could I please come in, Khen? I…I had to see you.”
She knew it was wrong, knew that this would only lead to her own undoing, but she seemed to lose all her own will when she looked into his eyes and relented to the throbbing sound of his voice.
She stepped away from the door and let him in.
He moved past her, and the manly scent of him rushed through her veins, quaking her heart.
He turned around to face her, and all of his good intentions flew out the window. She looked so vulnerable, soft, so hurt and uncertain. And the painful reality was that it was his fault. He had allowed his superego to overshadow his reason, and he had lost the one person who meant more than anything else in the world to him. He took a cautious step toward her.
She flinched, pulling her robe tightly around her as if to ward off some unseen danger. But she didn’t move away. Her heart raced. Please don’t. I don’t have the strength to resist you. I need you so much…please stay away—
He stepped closer, compelled by a force more powerful than any he had known. And in the next breath, he gathered her into his arms, pulling her to him, his hungry lips brushing across hers in a feather-soft kiss that denied the unbelievable urgency that whipped through his body.